March 6, ‘19 & ‘20 post on FB
“…if we remove the shades of fear that we’ve been conditioned to carry and really open our eyes, there are beautiful threads of goodness woven all through humanity. We’re missing so much of it when we get that tunnel vision we are prone to.”
It’s 3:22 am. I’m sitting watch at The Van’s emergency shelter.... listening to folks in various states of restlessness, others snoring, all mixed in with the signature winter coughs... I’m a little bored, but completely content with that vs. the alternative. It hasn’t gotten as cold tonight as they thought it would, but I’m alright with that too. I’m glad I got one more chance to see these neighbors of ours come in from the cold, drink from the seemingly bottomless coffee urn, have open access to a bathroom... even a shower. They’re getting a great meal & a sack breakfast out of it too. I’ve said it many times now - emergency shelter nights are tough. Mostly because no one here has the opportunity to be at their best. We are all tired. Lots of people don’t feel great. The concrete floors are hard. It’s difficult to find complete harmony between this many people in one place. It’s like some weird lock-in. But there’s also this bizarre element of a summer camp where you get to know people just from spending time in close proximity to them.
Some of my favorite current friendships came from last year’s shelter nights. And as i sit here contemplating all of that, I’m honestly sad that this is likely our last shelter night of the season. There are people here tonight that I won’t see again until next year, & some I’ll never see again in my life. That’s hard for me ... and as soon as I type that, I know that historically my friends would respond by saying what a great person I am. However, the truth is there’s really no reason everyone can’t be like that.
We spend so much time fearing things. I think about that a lot & it wrecks my soul a little each time. I believe the division we have between each other is based in it. I feel like the discomfort in being around people who we think are too different from us is born in it. In reality, there are so many ways we’re alike & if we remove the shades of fear that we’ve been conditioned to carry and really open our eyes, there are beautiful threads of goodness woven all through humanity. We’re missing so much of it when we get that tunnel vision we are prone to.
I remember first meeting Aaron [Reddin] years ago & being reminded of just that. It’s why I latched on to the mission of The Van and the further along I get on this journey (that admittedly feels like a carnival ride at times), the more blessed I am to find those golden rays of love. They show themselves in lots of different ways, but it’s there and unfaltering. Yet all around us our community fails to recognize it. It holds us back to the detriment of our brothers & sisters. We are made to be a tribe. To rely on each other. The singular path doesn’t exist. The notion that an individual direction is the correct one is surely absurd. And our unwillingness to welcome those on a journey unlike ours is simply sad.
It’s now 4:55 & I’ve been in & out of this chair a dozen times being a friend to people who are simply waiting for daylight. It’s undoubtedly difficult, but it’s an even greater gift than it is a burden. That’s why I’m going to end this by asking each of you to spend some time today with those shades of fear tucked in your pocket. Then tomorrow, try it again. Try to find those glimmers of goodness... because they’re there. And when you find them, bask in their glory... because it’s not about homelessness, & it’s most certainly not about saving people...It’s just about goodness, and love. And I will promise you’ll find that loosing your fear will change your life.